


Distractions

by Junebug (Current521)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Bondage, Canon Non-Binary Character, Established Relationship, Heist, Other, Porn With Plot, Post-Episode: s03e01-02 Juno Steel and the Man in Glass, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Peter Nureyev, i've never written smut and don't know how to tag, mentioned very briefly but mentioned nonetheless, not really but i guess they're in an alley, well references to anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Current521/pseuds/Junebug
Summary: Juno is as gloriously distracting as always, but just this once, Peter can afford to be distracted
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: my doc title for this was "Peter is gay"
> 
> Obligatory reminder than Juno is NB, I write him as amab and Peter as trans (it's not mentioned in here, I just think it's important), but yeah, Peter calls Juno by feminine pet names because he's a lady and he deserves them

Peter feels most comfortable in a fitted suit, if he has to go to a fancy event, so that’s what Buddy has gotten him; Buddy Aurinko is many things, but she considers her family’s comfort. So Peter is in a fitted black suit, with a brilliant red tie to match Juno’s dress, because of course he’s accompanied by his lady love.

Juno’s dress is a vivid scarlet that sets off his dark skin, tight bodice and long sleeves, with a loose skirt that falls beautifully to his calves, and golden stiletto heels that lets him be taller than Peter, matching manicured nails shining against the dark fabric of Peter’s suit as he rests his hand on his arm. “Osiris, honey?” Juno asks, in character, his cadence just slightly altered from normal.

“Yes, dear?” Peter replies, blinking back to the present; right, they’re on a mission. As beautiful as his lady love looks — and he does, enough to almost distract Peter again — he can’t afford a slip in concentration. Not just yet.

Juno wrinkles his nose, the picture of an upper class lady, and it’s adorable, and Peter almost laughs. “This place seems awfully… Shabby.”

He’s right; while the party is billed for the upper class of Venus and strictly invitation-only, the venue is decidedly less glamorous. A warehouse by the looks of it, the floor swept but not scrubbed, the bar unpolished, and the security recognisable, but not in uniform. “Now now, my dear, let’s give our host a chance to show themself before we start criticising them too harshly,” Peter replies, the mask of Osiris Maurin slipping neatly into place as he sends Juno a smile that borders on patronising.

The smile Juno-as-Isabel-Maurin sends back is decidedly icy, but Peter can’t help putting a little warmth into his face as a response; Juno has become a much better actor over the past year with Buddy, and while they go as married couples as often as possible, there is still acting involved, and Peter is proud of Juno’s progress.

They mingle, Juno’s hand only straying from it’s spot on Peter’s arm when one of the other guests gets a little too flirtatious — the Maurins are known for having money, even if they’re not known for their faces — when he wraps an arm around Peter’s waist and pulls him close.

When the third hopeful has been warded off by Juno’s attentions, Peter turns to his lady, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Jealousy is a good look on you, love,” he whispers, in his own voice.

“The audacity of these people.” Juno doesn’t drop Isabel’s voice, but he’s also notably louder. “Acting like I’m not right here. I’m your wife, dammit, it would suit you well to act like it.” There’s a shine in his eye, one Peter thinks he recognises, but can’t believe would be there now.

“Of course darling,” Osiris replies, slipping an arm around his wife’s waist. “It seems that Mx Carlisle won’t be making an appearance anytime soon, so would you care to join me for a breath of fresh air?” If Juno really is thinking what Peter sees, he’d rather be outside, but he’s absolutely not opposed.

“Let’s.” Isabel slides an arm around him, and Peter can feel the warmth of Juno’s arm even through several layers of fabric.

They make it outside with minimal interaction and walk around the building to an alley.

“There’s a back door,” Juno says, pointing. “Thought we’d better take a look.”

“Indeed.” Peter hadn’t entirely misread Juno’s intentions, he supposes, but he’s still disappointed; the shine in his eye is excited, but not in the way Peter has gotten used to. Still; it’s a lovely look on the lady, especially with the layers of gold and red around his eye and eyepatch that Vespa had done, surprisingly handy with a makeup brush for an assassin/medic.

Juno suddenly lets go of Peter’s waist, stepping away, just holding his hand. “Come on, there’s something else.” His eye is still shining. “I want to show you something.” He tugs lightly on Peter’s hand.

“Where are we going, love?”

“Just come on.” Juno pulls him along, past the side door they’d come to investigate — Peter takes a quick look at it; nothing special, just a locked door, probably a service entrance — and towards a back alley.

“What do you mean to show me here?” Peter asks, looking around the dingy alley.

“If you haven’t guessed yet, Nureyev, you’re not half as observant as I thought you were.” Juno laughs, his mask dropped completely. He makes use of his extra few inches to wrap his arm around Peter’s neck and place a kiss on his forehead.

Peter’s eyes and mind are working rapidly, Juno distractingly beautiful in front of him, the familiar shine in his brown eye intensified. That shine… The alley, no people around, and no cameras by the looks of it… Juno’s eye, hungry and expectant… The use of his name… “Privacy,” he breathes, finally putting the pieces together. “You’re showing me privacy.”

Juno’s satisfied smile is worth the wait. “I thought I’d have to spell it out for you.” He leans in for a kiss, all too brief. “With all the planning lately, getting time together that isn’t just sleep is hard, and I saw this place on the plan, out of range of all cameras and listening devices, and I thought—”

Peter interrupts him with a kiss, another brief one. “You thought right,” he says, smiling. “Be careful with your lipstick, darling.” He reaches up to wipe a bit off the corner of Juno’s mouth, knowing that he’ll have to carefully wipe his own face when they’re done, too.

“Oh fuck the lipstick, I haven’t had you alone and awake in over a week.” Juno rolls his eyes. “Well? Do you plan on just standing there?”

Peter absolutely doesn’t plan on just standing there; he reaches behind his neck to circle Juno’s wrists, prying them loose. The alley is small, so backing Juno against the wall is less of a step and more of a lean, but he moves his feet anyway, pinning his lady love’s arms against the wall.

The response from Juno is delightful; his breath hitches, and his lips searches for and finds Peter’s, and true to his word, he doesn’t care for the lipstick; his lips, restless on Peter’s, his tongue impatient, running over Peter’s lower lip and his sharp teeth, his hands twitching against Peter’s, though not honestly trying to break free.

It only takes a few seconds for Peter to want more; Juno is warm and soft and eager, and Peter lets go of his wrists only so his hands can roam more freely over his body.

Juno takes advantage of his freedom, hands grasping at Peter’s lapels and pulling him closer. “Nureyev,” he gasps as their lips break apart for just a moment.

“Shush, my dear detective.” Peter is no less breathless than his lady love. “Just shush.”

“I just wanted to warn you.” There’s a hint of a smile in Juno’s voice. “Your hands are getting under my dress, where they are very welcome, but there are a lot of knives on my legs.”

The warning is well timed; Peter slows down, just avoiding a nick from one the countless knives strapped to Juno’s legs. “How many do you have there?” He asks.

Juno smiles, flirtatious and beautiful. “Why don’t you kneel down and find out?” he asks, his voice more air than vocalisation.

“My, aren’t you forward.” Peter smiles. “We don’t have time, Juno.” He hates to say it, but it’s true.

Juno sighs. “We’ve got all night, Nureyev. Carlisle isn’t going anywhere.”   
He’s right, and Peter knows it. So he nods briefly and moves his hand up to pin Juno’s wrists again. “Do try to be quiet, dear.”

“You know I won’t,” Juno replies drily.

Peter does know, and the request wasn’t genuine; he likes hearing Juno. So he drops to his knees, the fabric of Juno’s dress soft and delicate on his face as he slides under it to get to his legs.

He isn’t wearing stockings, and some idle part of Peter’s brain worries at the blisters those heels are gonna leave, but then he’s distracted again. Because criss-crossing the skin, over the familiar scars, are straps of leather. None of the knives are sheathed, just slid in between the straps, but Peter knows they’re secure; Juno knows his weapons and his leather. Two plasma cutters, a steel blend dagger — the one that had almost cut Peter before — a blaster, a switchblade, a stiletto blade, and what looks like an old craft knife. “Six,” he says. “And a blaster.”

“Very good.” Juno taps impatiently on his wrists, the only part he can reach. “Are you done admiring the view?”

“No.” Peter looks up, following the straps of leather to Juno’s hips — for now ignoring the fact that he isn’t wearing underwear, though he knows that won’t last — where they twine up around his torso, disappearing under the tight fabric of his dress. Peter knows what it looks like, though, has seen Juno in leathers before. He knows the long sleeves of the dress are to hide the bands around his arms, as much as it’s to hide the tiny comms device and probably a few more stiletto blades that are shoved in there. He knows the leathers would be there regardless of the weapons, too, and appreciates that knowledge.

He turns his head to place a kiss on the inside of Juno’s thigh, enjoying the gasp it elicits. “Nureyev…”

“Yes love?” He’s proud of how steady his voice is.

“Just enjoying this,” Juno replies, decidedly less steady. “Wondering if I could get my hands back.”

“What for?” Peter doesn’t let go of Juno’s wrists; he never held them fast enough that Juno couldn’t break his grip if he wanted, so he’s not concerned with pushing limits. “Thought you liked being restrained?”

“I do, but I prefer ropes or leathers.” Juno shakes his hands free. “And besides, you’re not normally on your knees, Nureyev, it’s a good look.” He lifts his dress enough to gently pull Nureyev’s head back by the hair, and Peter savours the way his strong fingers feel against his scalp.

He looks up at his lady love through his eyelashes. “You’d say that, darling.” He purses his lips. “Well, you have me on my knees now, Juno, what do you plan to do about it?”

“I was gonna ask you to blow me, but honestly, you could do whatever.” Juno never was good at being domineering, not when it comes to sex. Peter admires his attempt, but he doesn’t say anything about that.

“Sounds like a good plan.” It does; it’s easy, and Juno is half hard already, and Peter is on his knees. Trying to get his trousers off for a proper fuck isn’t going to work, and Peter’s wearing far more subtle makeup than Juno, less likely to get noticeably messy.

And that’s where he stops thinking; instead, he grabs Juno’s hip with one hand, pushing him into the wall, which elicits another wonderful gasp. His other hand grabs Juno’s cock gently, sliding his thumb over the length of it, savouring the strangled sound in Juno’s throat. He places a gentle kiss on the tip. "You're so beautiful like this," he says softly, and Juno shudders in response. He kisses the tip again, letting his tongue just glance over it, tasting. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Just get to it, Nureyev," Juno snaps, but there's no heat to it.

"Now now," Peter admonishes gently. "Be a good girl and have a little patience. You think you can do that? Be good for me?" He's playing every string he knows he has; Juno is so easy to melt.

"Yes," he breathes. "Yes, I—" He's cut off by his own moan as Peter takes his cock in his mouth properly. He moves slowly, tongue glancing off the tip when he moves back, his lips gentle. Juno's hands tighten in his hair, but aside from that and the pretty little moans he can't hold back, he stays stock still.

Peter pulls back. "You're being very good, love," he mumbles, kissing the tip again. "Very good."

"May I talk?" Juno whispers, as though afraid of not being allowed.

"Of course, dear."

"Can I move?" His hands tighten in Peter's hair. "I mean… Help."

Peter laughs and lets go of Juno's hip, though not his cock, still idly using a thumb to elicit gasps and moans. "Now now, my dear, that's not normally how we do things, is it?"

"Normally I'm the one on his knees," Juno counters, and he's right. "I mean… Please?" He pulls gently at Peter's hair, just enough to look down at him, and weaker men than Peter Nureyev have fallen for that look in that eye.

He smiles. "Well then. It'll make you come faster." He looks back down. "Be a good girl and wait until I've taken my hand away."

"Yes," Juno breathes, and it's just barely audible.

Peter has one last trick he wants to use before he lets Juno have any control, and Juno remains stock still throughout, breath catching in a  _ very  _ attractive way as Peter runs his tongue down the length of Juno's cock, flicking the tip as he pulls away. "Good girl," Then he moves both hands to Juno's thighs, holding him just slightly in place, and begins sucking him off in earnest.

Juno sets the pace, between thrusting his hips and his hands in Peter's hair, and he doesn't tease himself, so it's over much sooner that Peter would like. Even then, when Juno comes and Peter swallows to avoid the mess, he stays where he is, teasing with his tongue, eliciting a whine from Juno. A whine, but no attempt to pull him away.

A minute passes, and Peter knows he's pushing it, both with Juno and the party. So he pulls away, letting his hands fall from Juno's thighs, and stands up, still leaning Juno against the wall. "Very good," he breathes. "You're so very good for me, Juno."

This elicits another whine.

"Use your words, darling," Peter teases, not giving him a chance before he's kissing him. "We should get back to the party, they'll be missing us soon."

"I know." Juno's breathing heavily. "Just give me a minute to collect myself, hmm?"

"Just a minute." Peter wipes his hand on a tissue from his pocket, then frees Juno's hands from his hair to smooth it down. Then he grabs another tissue and begins fixing Juno's makeup. "There we are darling. Good as new." He kisses him quickly. "Now, ready to return with me, Mrs Maurin?"

Juno closes his eyes for two seconds, and when he opens them again, it's Isabel who answers. "Let's go." He straightens up and takes Peter's arm, and they return to the party.

The person they're here to steal from, Amelia Carlisle, has shown up by the time the Maurins return, and they're delighted to see them. They gush over Osiris, and Peter enjoys Juno's palpable jealousy, though at least some of it may be Isabel's. Not that it matters much; by the time they're done, Carlisle is several million creds poorer, and Juno's many leather straps are heavy with the weight of the jewels they've stolen.

They return to the Carte Blanche victorious, and silent on how long they really spent at the party vs in the alley, though Peter knows Juno is too much of a mess to fool Buddy for even a second.


End file.
